The Tattered Thread

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  While sitting together in the kitchen and sipping coffee, Tasia explained all that she knew about Carl’s death to Elaine. Not only had Carl withstood the ether blast, but he’d also been bludgeoned and had suffered an episode of torture. His right brachial artery had been severed by something sharp, probably the straight razor that they’d found beside his body. The assailant had then left him to bleed to death.

  As Tasia recounted even the smallest details she knew of the case, it was difficult not to wonder how she came to know so much about it. Solace could be found in believing that this information became available to her through conversations with the officers in charge of the investigation.

  They were deep in their discussion when Silas started yelling at someone. It was so unusual for him to express himself in such a way, and all of his fussing sent Elaine and Tasia running to his aid.

  Officer Blanchard was escorting Silas away from the office. The boy was being held by an arm and by the scruff of the neck, and was being dragged along by the policeman. Nothing Silas could’ve done would’ve justified his being treated that way in his own home.

  “What are you doing to him?” Tasia asked, grabbing the officer and trying to take his hands away from Silas. He finally let go, but only after Detectives Connery and Slye emerged from the library to see what was going on.

  “Officer Blanchard,” Connery said, “what’s the trouble?”

  “I found this boy tampering with evidence. I told him no one can cross the cordoned off section of the house except the authorities, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Connery stooped down to talk to Silas face-to-face. “Son, we’re taking pictures and analyzing certain rooms in your house. We need to finish collecting crime scene evidence before we can allow you to enter your dad’s office, the adjoining reception room, his private bath, or the sitting room across the hall from the office. Do you understand?”

  “Yes I do, but I have to see Katerina’s notes from Dad’s last meeting.”

  “Why?”

  “I believe knowing what went on during that meeting is the key to telling us who killed him. Something happened on Friday that set somebody off. I can just feel it.”

  “I’ll tell you what, Silas,” Connery said. “I’ll check the minutes from your dad’s last meeting, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

  Silas didn’t seem relieved to hear that. In fact, he didn’t seem to have any confidence in the law officers at all. “I don’t know if you’d be able to find anything, sir,” he said.

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because I don’t believe you’d know what to look for.”

  “I’ve been in law enforcement for….”

  “And I’ve known my dad for seven years,” Silas interjected, “and you’ve never even met him. No offense, but you’re going about this all wrong.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re accusing my mom, and she didn’t do anything.”

  “If you’re asking me if your mom is a suspect, she is.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t be. Sure her prints were on the straight razor used to kill my father, but she was the only one he’d trust to shave him. It’s only logical that her fingerprints would be on it.”

  “And if she was the only one who ever shaved your father, then she really must know how to handle a razor.”

  “Most policemen really know how to use a gun, too. But that doesn’t mean they shoot people because they know how to do it.” He hesitated. “Or do they?”

  “Of course they don’t,” Connery said. “But when a person’s fingerprints are all over a murder weapon, then they become a suspect by deduction.”

  “We wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t at least check your mom out,” Slye explained. “Surely you’ll give us that.”

  Silas didn’t answer.

  “Your mother won’t talk to us anymore without her lawyer present,” Slye said. “Now, does that sound like someone who doesn’t have something to hide?”

  Silas stared at Slye as if battle lines were being drawn and the two of them weren’t ending up on the same side. “It sounds like someone who’s afraid of being railroaded,” Silas said, just before the longcase clock in the family room brought in the ten o’clock hour.

  “I assure you,” Connery said, looking rather silly explaining himself to a child, “we’re thorough investigators, and we won’t rest until the person responsible for your father’s death is apprehended.” Connery heard voices and so looked past Tasia and Elaine to see who was coming. Nicolette Howard and Alex Gordetsky were walking toward them, and they introduced themselves after they got close enough to talk.

  “We came as soon as we heard,” Nicolette said, glancing at Silas and then Tasia. “How did it happen?”

  “Somebody killed Dad with his own straight razor,” Silas told her. “They also dropped a cinder block on John’s neck and crushed his windpipe.”

  “My God, who’d do something like that?” Alex said, looking from Silas to Detective Connery.

  “That’s what I’m going to find out,” Connery said. “My name is Detective Rein Connery. I’m in charge of this investigation. This is my partner Detective Maynard Slye.”

  Alex stretched out his hand and Connery shook it. “Anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.” He shook Slye’s hand as well.

  “We want to talk to the two of you,” Connery told them.

  “Of course,” Nicolette said.

  “Officer Blanchard, finish examining the cordoned off rooms. Tell me if anything new turns up.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, walking off down the hallway.

  “We’d like to talk to you two separately if you don’t mind,” Connery said after Blanchard had left. “Ms. Howard, would you go first?”

  “Of course.”

  He glanced at the purse she was carrying. Noticing his interest, she looked down at it as well. There was something resembling an ink pen clipped to it. “Oleoresin capsicum,” he observed. “You carry pepper spray.”

  “Yes, I got mugged a couple of years ago. The guy made off with my handbag and everything in it. The police never caught him.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you know where Marlon McGhee is?”

  Nicolette stared at Connery as if the name Marlon left a bitter taste in her mouth. “No,” she said.

  “I haven’t seen him, either,” Alex said.

  Connery nodded. “The two of you came here together?”

  “Yes,” Alex said. “We do that often. Carpooling, you see. Today we drove in separately, however; each of us wanted to have our own car. But usually we travel together because Nicolette only lives three miles from my house.”

  “Did you bring Ms. Howard to the meeting yesterday?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And you took her home?”

  “No,” Nicolette said. “I caught a ride with someone else. I lagged behind to work on some reports, and Alex was in a hurry.”

  “What was your hurry, Mr. Gordetsky?”

  “When it’s quitting time at your end, do you find more work to do or do you get going?”

  Connery smiled. “I get going,” he said.

  “Well, so do I.”

  “So both of you were at yesterday’s meeting.”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. McGhee also?”

  Nicolette nodded. “Yes, we all were. Everyone from upper management on was required to be there.”

  “Are you right-handed?” he asked Nicolette, then glanced at Alex.

  “I am,” Nicolette said. “Why?”

  “Me, too,” Alex said. “What, are we suspects, too?”

  Connery didn’t answer.

  “We weren’t even here when Carl was murdered, for crying out loud!”

  “One of you could’ve come back,” Slye said.

  “What about the surveillance cameras?” Alex said. “There are cameras monitoring
every outside door to this house.”

  “We’re still analyzing what the cameras recorded,” Connery said. “It takes awhile to look at several hours of footage on twenty different video tapes. It’s possible that the killer knew enough about the house and the cameras to have been able to work around them. I looked over the lawns at daybreak. Did you know that there’s a hole in the fence surrounding the house that’s big enough for an adult to pass through?”

  “No, I wasn’t aware of that,” Alex said.

  “Me, either,” Nicolette said. “Why should I know something like that? I always drive through the front gate like everyone else.”

  “One thing’s for certain,” Connery said. “Whoever the killer is, he’s spent a lot of time in this house. He knew everyone’s routine, what went on here, and when. A stranger couldn’t have pulled this off.”

  “There are cameras in Carl’s office,” Alex said. “Katerina’s office surely has one.”

  “Carl turns those monitors off after dinner,” Connery said, nodding. “And I’m sure the killer knew that, too.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Seeing Alex and Nicolette so concerned over a man they could hardly stand brought back memories of unsettling events from the past. The goings-on between Carl and his entourage of business helpers were never boring, that’s for sure.